


Nuit de Débauche

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, Mildly dub con because the Inquisitor is a derp, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Adrianne Trevelyan bites off more than she can chew.</p><p>Before the ball at Halamshiral, the Inquisitor receives an invitation to a soirée attended by influential members of the Orlesian court, with a promise of full support for the Inquisition. After much deliberating, the Inquisitor and the advisors agree, although Leliana warned her that these soirées are just excuses for an orgy, and the Inquisitor would probably be the centerpiece. So they sent someone to go with the Inquisitor, someone who can take the role of a servant and be unnoticed yet could wreak some serious havoc if things went really really South - namely Solas. Fill for the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apéritif

**Author's Note:**

> An Apéritif is a before dinner drink (in this context).

“Inquisitor, while this does sound like a good idea, are you quite sure you’re ready for this?” Josephine attempted, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

 

Leliana continued the sentiment, “Yes, I do not think you understand the implications of what the _Fête de Débauché_ is. It is essentially a sex party, and you will be the focus of it, you do re-”

 

Adrianne cut her off with a wave of her hand and a cutting look at both women, “Yes yes, big Orlesian noble get together, lots of wine, intrigue, and sex. House Trevelyan may have not been high up on the societal ladder, but I can tell you I have been to my fair share of ‘private’ parties.”

 

Josephine opened her mouth hesitantly and Leliana’s face was terribly strained, “If you are quite certain?”

 

“This is the end of it. I will go, it’ll be for the good of the Inquisition and foster better alliances with the Orlesian noble households, will it not?”  

 

She was certain that whatever the Orlesians could throw at her she’d be fine. She might have to be surrounded by an Orlesian orgy, but she’d seen worse in Red Templars and Corypheus. Not to mention Leliana had to be exaggerating how much she’d have to participate. Perhaps she might have to bed a noble or two, nothing more.  

 

“Yes Inquisitor, but I think it’d be best if you brought someone with you on the off hand chance something goes wrong. I would suggest Solas as our first choice, he would not draw untoward attention. If not Solas, then possibly Commander Cullen.”

 

The Commander went from his lip biting, pink faced embarrassment, to white faced horror. Adrianne thought he might faint if she didn’t say something quick.

 

“Solas is fine,” Cullen shot a grateful look towards her, even as he swayed slightly on his feet, “make the preparations.”

 

This is how she ended bare assed, legs spread eagle and hands bound above her head in the finest Orlesian silk while she lay on a fine dining table. Sweet expensive Orlesian honey coated her breasts, stomach, and inner thighs. Her sex was throbbing and wet thanks to previous ministration before she’d been wheeled out, even if she was blushing all over with mortification from the fact that everyone was staring at her.

 

Sure, Josephine and Leliana had hinted that some very… interesting things went on at these sorts of soirées, and really, was it her fault that she hadn’t paid too much attention during the Orlesian language lessons her parents had elected for her to take without consulting her? Horseback riding, sparring, and the stable boy had held greater interest for her by far at the time. How was she supposed to know that _Fête de Débauché_ mean Party of Debauchery, or that the guest of honor meant **_tonight’s entertainment_**.

 

Of course she hadn’t just been delivered to this event tied up and nude as a babe. No, much to her confusion, when she arrived with Solas, they had been escorted to a private room to ‘prepare’.

 

Once the door shut behind them she shot Solas a questioning look. She had come prepared after all. Her evening gown was a shining shade of rich crimson with a deep bust, her hair pulled back in a simple but elegant set bun. The only thing she noticed she was missing was a mask, which all the other nobles seemed to be wearing. Perhaps they needed to get her one as well?

 

“Shall I assist you in getting ready Inquisitor?” Solas asked with a quirked brow.

 

“Uh,” she started, suddenly at a loss for words. The Elven Apostate had better knowledge of what was going on than she did? Something was terribly not right about this situation.

 

It was about then that she noticed the rolling table covered in a lovely tablecloth and a set of fine Orlesian silk ropes near by. A small jar of expensive honey sat by itself, such an odd place to have it.

 

Frowning, she finally gave in to her bewilderment, “Yes, I seem to be a bit confused Solas. What exactly should I be getting ready for? ”

 

It seemed, almost despite himself, he was fighting back a mirthful smile. His face twitched with it and it gave him an almost boyish look, it looked terribly cute on him.

 

“Why Inquisitor, I was told you were already briefed on tonight’s activities. Do you not know?” He paused, and her helpless look was all the answer he needed, “You are the guest of honor, and as such shall be … how do you say? You are the main course for tonight’s meal.”

 

His meaning was lost on her at first. _Meal_? What in Maker’s name did he mean? Her eyes flicked to the ropes, then the honey, then to Solas, who was looking at her with something quite close to hungry anticipation.

 

“I do so love the games that court plays, tonight promises to be quite fascinating. Shall I help you with your dress?”

 

Meal. _Sexually_ , he meant it sexually. Oh no. Surely he didn’t mean to tie her up and wheel her out there in front of all the well known Orlesian noble families? Biting her lip she found herself reaching for her hilt like a security blanket and coming away with just the feel of expensive fabric on her fingers and the feeling of lead in her stomach.

 

Swallowing audibly, all she could manage to muster up was a faint nod of acceptance. Her eyes closed as he stepped behind her. Deft fingers undid the lacing of her dress with swiftness that, under other circumstances, she might have wanted to question Solas about. It fell to the floor in a soft swish of fabric. As it was, next he removed her breast band, his fingers stroking along her skin and making her breath catch.

 

“You should relax, let me help you,” he offered in a low voice, his words warm against the back of her neck.

 

She shivered visibly. Uncertainty warred with budding arousal at his voice. His fingers skimmed over her arms, across her ribcage, to trace swirling intricate patterns that took her breath away. By the time his hands cupped her breasts, she was practically begging for the attention. He teased her, brought all her nerve endings to the surface until each touch felt almost too much against her sensitive skin. By the time he worked his way to her hips she was more than happy to help him remove her smalls.

 

Turning to him, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were heavy lidded, his face darkened in lust. The fact that she never thought of him this way before, or even realized he would have been interested in a human of all things- or she in an elven apostate- had her body tightening in pleasure.

 

“Solas,” she choked, not wholly sure of herself anymore.

 

“Lay on the table so I might bind you and finish preparations. It would be best not to keep them waiting,” he instructed, his eyes locked with her own.

 

With mild reluctance she mounted the table and laid back, her body exposed to him fully. It took every inch of her control not to fight him as he began binding her wrists, and she completely lost it by the time he spread her thighs wide. He stilled her with his magic, using it to trap her legs and stroke along her skin, stoking the heat in her body higher.

 

When he finished he took a moment to admire his handy work. It was not entirely with a clinical eye that he studied her. She sighed when he tilted his head, a thoughtful looking encompassing his features.

 

She became antsy under the weight of his lingering gaze. Fidgeting, she asked in a wispy voice, “Is that all?

 

“No,” he murmured and stroked a hand up her thigh to her sex, then lightly skimmed his fingers along her outer lips, “I think further preparation is perhaps needed.”

 


	2. Amuse-bouche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amuse-Bouche is a single or two bite snack.

His fingers parted the lips of her sex and dipped in to tease at her opening. The index slid up, gathering the slight build up of moisture and circled around the hood of her hard bundle of nerves. Adrianne lifted her hips as best she could despite the bindings, her face flushed, eyes clenching shut. It tapped light at her clit and then went back to tracing, around and around until it was the the only thing that mattered. A soft moan slipped free from her chest, her breathing growing harsh. The table creaked with added weight and her eyes fell open to half lids.

 

Solas leaned over and slid himself between her thighs. His nose dipped down against her pubic bone, his lips hovering over her sex. A sharp inhale, then a wet tongue slipped inside her. A loud cry rung through the room. Solas paused and looked up at her, a warning look on his face, "Hush," he said and pinched the inside of her thigh.

 

He went back to work when she nodded her ascent, one hand holding her open wide for better access, the other slipping a finger inside her and curling it upward. She bit her lips so hard it bled, a low kneeing sound leaking through her teeth and lips. Once she was thoroughly soaked he stood up, his mouth slick with her need. He tsk'd at the sight of her bloodied lower lip. Two of his wet fingers reached up to brush it, leaving a tingle of healing magic behind. The flesh mended, but he did not remove the digits, instead they pressed against her lips with soft insistence. Hesitantly she opened her mouth and suckled at his fingers, not entirely turned off to her own taste.

 

When he was satisfied he removed his fingers and went about his work like he hadn't just been between her legs about to make her beg for release. Using an extra cloth he wiped his mouth clean, then took the jar of honey from the side table. He raised it into the light and admired it, a soft hum of approval vibrating in his chest. Acquire a brush from who knew where, he pulled up a chair beside the table she lay on. The lid came off, and he dipped the brush in.

 

He started to speak, but she was mostly distracted by the touch of the honey basted brush circling her right nipple.

 

The brush paused mid stroke, "Are you listening to me Inquisitor?"

 

She blinked rapidly at him and struggled to focus, "Yes?"

 

He smirked ever so slightly, then continued, "Good. As I was saying, a few of your spy master's little birds seem to be lurking in the shadows, mostly here to gather intelligence, though they have been quite informative on recent events. Word is that Gaspard will be here tonight, though there is no concrete evidence in so far. "

 

She nodded, her breath hitching when the brush swiped quickly over her pert nipple.

 

"I doubt you'd recognize him among the nobles though. You've drawn quite a gathering here."

 

It was too hard to focus on his words. She was sure he was describing the current noble houses attending in great detail, but for all her ability to pay attention he might as well have been reciting the chant of light. Her brow was furrowed and damp with sweat by the time he was done. He gave her face a gentle stroke as though to reassure her.

 

She could not help fidgeting when he wheeled her out. Someone announced their arrival, and every eye turned to her. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she was leered from behind a variety of masks. Frantically she turned her head to catch sight of Solas leaving. He took a spot near a column off to the side, and when an elven server came near with a plate full of drinks he easily took one and sipped at it, his eyes locked on her the entire time.

 

She lost sight of him when people began to crowd around her.

 

It began with a woman wearing a purple domino dipping her fingers along Adrianne's honeyed breast and raising them to her lips. A shock of heat went through her as the woman sucked at her fingers. The noble woman made a soft sound of pleasure, then leaned over and lowered her mouth to Adrianne's nipple. She lapped at it eagerly then sucked the puckered bud between her lips. Another mouth went to her thigh and tasted the honey that coated them. Stubble grazed her, a multitude of teeth and tongues fell upon her and drew across her skin. Her mouth fell open and someone pressed fingers between her lips, drawing them open wide, they were coated with the honey that Solas had painted across her skin.

 

Heat curled in her stomach as a hot tongue slid along her slit. Her head jerked up, and through the crowd she could see Solas. His glass was poised at his lips, fingers clasped delicately around the stem, his eyes rapt on her. When their eyes met the heat and intensity of his charged gaze sent her tumbling over the edge. The man between her legs, a rugged looking fellow with a fox mask, chuckled low in his throat. He had lovely blue eyes, which she only caught a glimpse of before her face was drawn into a kiss. It was a woman with a rabbit mask. Her lips were plush, mouth eager and hot.

 

The rabbit masked woman pulled away and gasped for air, then laid kisses across her neck, breasts, one hand moving down between her legs to join the mouth of the fox masked man. They consumed her attention, other people caressed and stroked her, some even started stroking each other, but they were so far from her perception that they might as well not have been there.

 

Soon they were replaced, others tasted her, touched her, some even kissed the Anchor through the silk binding. It seemed to go on forever, until she felt exhausted from cumming and the constant tension building in her muscles.

 

She was half delirious by the time Solas collected her. They returned to the room they had been supplied. He unbound her hands and legs. She laid unmoving for a moment and his eyes studied her. Blinking up at him she stretched her arms and groaned in discomfort. Despite the silk bindings, a collection of purple bruises were blooming across her wrists.

 

Solas left for a moment, and when he returned he had a pitcher of water and a glass. The liquid in the glass was not water, and when he handed it to her she gave him a look. He held her gaze and didn't elaborate- so Adrianne drank it anyway. It was a stamina potion.

 

"Thank you," she said hoarsely.

 

"You're welcome," he replied softly, then he refilled the glass with water when she finished. She drank it greedily. When she placed it down he gently pushed her back on to the table and then took one of her wrists between his palms. The warmth of his magic tingled across her skin, then his thumbs began to gently work the muscles of her palm, then wrist, then arm. She moaned in appreciation and he hummed at her. He switched arms, and by the time he was finished she felt a whole hell of a lot better.

 

"Rest for a while," he carded a hand through her hair," you'll want to regain your strength for when I rebind you."

 

It took her a moment to absorb his words, but when they finally did she stammered, "Wait, what?"


End file.
